Divisions

Just sharing some observations from living in a small rural Midwest town. When you grow up in such a place, leave and get out in the world, and pay attention closely, you start to notice how the social layers stack, how they shift, their dynamics, and how they often clash.

There’s about five or six groups of people around here. They are not truly rigid categories, but do exhibit real patterns that make them distinct. People here move in and out of these groups, often overlap, shift slightly—but I have observed that the divisions are getting much sharper, especially with all the national noise bleeding into local life.

1. The Default Majority

Most of the town is white and of European descent. They are mostly folks with working-class jobs, blue collar through and through. There exist a notable few white-collar, upper-middle-class families scattered in, but again, this majority is mostly paycheck-to-paycheck people, often with long generational roots here.

2. The Quiet Conservatives

Within that big group, there’s a strong bloc who lean right—socially conservative, Christian, not super politically active or even aware, but if asked, that’s what they’ll tell you they are. Their politics aren’t really about policy; they’re about identity. Many don’t follow or analyze the news closely, but still ride for the team they group up in. It’s more instinct than true belief or adherence in ideology.

3. The Go-Along Liberals

Then you’ve got the “liberals” — or maybe better called the conformists. White, centrist, liberal-leaning types who are uncomfortable with the far-right positions but don’t really want to upset the social balance. They will smile through it, often encourage unity, and will call out hate only if it’s socially safe to do so. They know better, but choose silence over losing friends, jobs, or family ties. A lot of “good people” who’d rather not pick a side publicly.

4. The Ones Who Push Back

This group’s smaller, but much sharper and aware. White folks too, mostly, but they’re done with pretending. They bluntly call things out. They organize, they disrupt, and they defend the vulnerable without hesitation. They don’t want to keep the peace if peace means silence and complicity. These are the ones who hold the mirror up to the community, and the people hate that mirror.

5. The Loud Extremists

Then you’ve got the full-on MAGA-core—the true believers. Fully and enthusiastically choking down fascism. Obsessed with bullshit culture war talking points, hostile to outsiders, and beyond angry at being challenged. They punch down hard and fast, and they make everything personal. Call them out, and you’re suddenly the enemy of everything they think is holy. They don’t debate—they smear. It’s worth mentioning too, they are often incredibly intellectually challenged and incompetent, but still dangerous nonetheless.

6. The Marginalized

And then there’s everyone else. The non-white residents, immigrant laborers (mostly Latino), Black families, Indigenous folks, and LGBTQ+ people, many of whom also come from working-class backgrounds but are often left out of community decisions, conversations, and protections. They’re the backbone of a lot of the local labor, which is predominantly agricultural, but also the ones who catch the most heat locally and nationally. White queer folks are here too, lumped into this group whether they want to be or not, because difference is difference when you’re not in the majority.

What’s wild is how groups 2 and 3 react when group 4 speaks up. It’s not just about racism, or injustice, but about anything that challenges their comfort zones. Group 2 always calls it troublemaking or extremism. Group 3, and parts of Group 2 also, try to both-sides it, act like they’re above the drama by being morally detached, as if their neutrality equals virtue. So often, if you dig a little deeper, that neutrality cracks right open: a lot of them do pick sides and they’re just too scared to say it out loud. Sometimes it’s just cowardice. Sometimes it’s cowardice as self-preservation wrapped in social status—business owners, old family names, church folks who smile and shake hands but won’t speak up when it matters, like Jesus would have.

None of this is unique to my town. I’d bet versions of these six groups show up all over the Midwest, maybe all over the country. The lines are drawn. Some people stay safe behind them. Some of us walk them or cross them, on purpose.

Some locals who know me—or know of me—will read this and undoubtedly get offended. Not because it’s false, but because deep down, they know it’s true. And nothing sets people off faster than being forced to look straight into a mirror at what they’ve been pretending isn’t there.